During a recent trip to Amman, Jordan I walked.
And walked.
And walked.
I remember going to bed before 10:00 pm, proud of the fact I’d fought off the merciless jet lag gods only to hear them have the last laugh a few short hours later.
I glanced at my shiny touchscreen at 2:49 am, shortly before melodic chants in Arabic off in distance somehow kept my heavy eyelids from resting.
Eventually, I made my way towards the City Center at around 7:00 am. The early bird often gets the worm but not in this town. Storefronts weren’t even in the nascent stages of giving life to commerce or exchange. For a brief few hours the city looked like a vacant lot at Paramount Studios.
Amman felt like it belonged to me alone.
At around 8:30 am or so, I stumbled upon a giant theater. Of course, it’s not every day you “stumble” upon a Roman theater, at least not where I’m from. But this happened to be the largest one in Jordan. It was once the pride and joy of Antonious Pius who reigned from 138 AD — 161 AD.
I stood in awe as I always do at such things, taking photo after photo of the Corinth columns, while daydreaming of what it might have all been like 2,000 years before.
I looked to my left towards the now glaring sun and saw high on the hill what looked like another treat the Romans had left behind. That was all I needed and began to once again make haste.
I zigged and zagged up a rather precipitous hill, knowing good and well, even as a tourist there was a much easier way.
What would be the fun in that? I thought to myself.
Eventually I found myself at the Amman Citadel. Here I saw the Roman Temenos, the Roman Temple of Hercules, the Ayyubid Watch Tower, the Sculpture Gardens, the Umayyad Cistern, a bath house, a Byzantine Church, and much more. It was the perfect reward for an hour and half walk that began to feel rudderless.
Some people just see a pile of rocks but for whatever reason the sight of ruins, never gets old to me. Neither do good films or clean clothes fresh out the drier, but I digress…
I suppose what I marvel at most is when one culture conquers another they invariably take over where the previous tenants left off.
Whether during the Persian Period, the Hellenistic or Roman, each seem to take what they want without fear of reprisal.
“Thank you for the fortification wall, the bath houses, the church we plan to make into a mosque. Leave the keys on your way out. We’ll take it from here.”
Sometimes I wonder how much has really changed.
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